Tequila Straights
by SevenOverThree
Summary: While at a bar-and dance, Murdoc spies a Leukemic girl named Ceilia who sparks more interest for him that most of the other girls he's known... May be continued


**Title:** Asking to Dance

**Base:** While feeling inpsired after watching the movie; 'My Sisters Keeper', I came up with this little blurb; a sort of alternate-universe tribute-thing to the movie. It plays out that Murdoc is at a bar-and-dance of sorts, and sees a woman that he recognises as having leukemia. Eventually, he gets up the will to talk with her.

I might continue this, but for now I'm gonna keep it as a oneshot.

**Genre:** Romance/Friendship

**PS****:** I'm not entirely good at thinking up story ideas, so send me ideas of situations you'd like to see that band in!

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He didn't really know what had brought him to Mullies bar(1) at ten in the afternoon. He wan't drinking, nor did he have a craving to. It didn't help that Noodle was trying to break his habit. He was also making an attempt to quit smoking due to the fact that his doctor nearly threatened him with a Tracheotomy; so no cigarette was held in his hands. Most of the women he wanted to drag home to his Winnie were already dancing with somebody, and he knew better than to try and take a girl from another man. He may have been brave to the point of stupidity, but he wasn't willing to risk the broken nose. He'd had that part of his body broken enough for one lifetime. With nothing else to do, he sighed, waving to Mullie; the barman.

"Regular, Muds?" The bassist shook his head.

"Naw. Noodle has got me tryin' ter cut back. Says too much drinkin' can give meh Cancer, an' Heart desease an' stuff." He pointed to a row of bottles on the shelf beind the barman. "One o' dem fings." Mullie turned to look in the direction that Murdoc was pointing.

"Ginger Ale, Muds? You ain't one fer drinkin' mixers." He leaned on the bar, grinning slightly. "And she's right you know, your little Noodle cup. You keep drinkin at your pace, you ain't gonna last much longer. Sounds like a good kid, wit' straight morals. It's a right miracle she's managed to turn out so good, what wit' who she's been raised up by." Murdoc glared at the man, who chuckled, raising his hands up in defence as he turned to grab the drink his friend had chosen. "M' just sayin', Muds. You're a satanist, an alcoholic an' a Druggie, yer vocalist is a pill-popper, and yer drummer is is back-ally insane." Murdoc scoffed, but smiled, taking a gulp of the non-alcoholic mixer-drink as he responded.

"'D ain't tha' bad a'tchully. 'E might down pills like Niagra pours water, but 'e'll be a good father when tha' time comes." He leaned closer, Mullie taking the hint and leaning closer as well. "Strictly 'off-the-record' speakin', D's a pretty good guy. A mite hollow in tha 'ead, but he's got good morals. Buddhist, don't drink much, peace-lover." He downed a bit more of his Ale. "And as fer Russel, 'e's a'tchully tha most responsible outta all of us. He's tha one taken care o' us all if summat bad 'appens." Another gulp. "And 'e ain't insane. Least not anymore. Weren't insane to begin with." Finished his rare 'rant-of-truth', he pulled himself away from his leaning position, turning slightly and gazing at the people in the bar. Nobody caught his attention, until a man a few seats down the bar moved, giving the bassist a full view of a young woman with a bandanna on. He noticed she look suspisiously like she had no hair. She was drinking what he recognised as a Canadian-made liquor; Alexander Keiths. Without taking his eyes off the young woman, he leaned in his bartending friends direction.

"Oi, Mullie. oo's at bird down there? Th'one wit tha bandanna on." Mullie looked down the seats, smiling warmly as he spoke.

"That would be Ceilia. Poor girl. Worlds got it in fer her." Before the man could continue, Murdoc cut him off.

"She's got Leukemia..." The satanist whispered, pity in his voice. Mullie looked at him, surprised.

""ow'd you tell?" Murdoc continued staring at her.

"It the skin. People wit' leukemia bruise easily, bleed excessively, or develop pinprick bleeds known as petechiae. She's got wonky-lookin' skin; bruises all over tha place... I know that disease; it's Leukemia."(2) Mullie chuckled lightly.

"I didn't know that the great Murdoc Niccals was versed in Pharmaceuticals..." Murdoc growled at the now-laughing barman.

"Yeah, well; yeh'd better not spread it around, mate. You know wot I'll do to yer if ya do...!" The barman continued to laugh, but attempted to muffle his laughing through a hand as he leaned on the bar. Murdoc sighed, and looked in the girls direction again. "...I'mma go talk to 'er. Wot ya say, Mullie?" The barman remained silent for a minute, catching his breath before answering.

"Sure, Muds. She been round here a bit, but s'always ignored. Could be a bit 'o company'd be good for 'er. Lord knows she'd like a friend before God decides to pick 'er off." Murdoc scoffed amusedly at the mans words before getting up off his stool and heading in the womans direction, Ginger-Ale in hand. Feeling awkward, he sat down next to her, taking a deep gulp of his Ale before speaking up.

"...Mullie says you been round here a bit... And I noticed your, eh... condition." He was already feeling out of place. Hopefully, she felt differently. Strangely, he struggled to speak again, and was surprised when the girl turned to him, an amused grin on her bruised face.

"You're horrible at making conversation." She held out a hand. "Lets start here. I'm Ceilia Averes. And you are?" Murdoc grinned, shaking the offered hand.

"Murdoc Niccals, demon bass player." Ceilia smiled, giggling.

"Looks like this shark-toothed demon man isn't quite living up to his namesake." Far from offended this time around, Murdoc laughed, playing with her as he pretended to snarl, and bare imaginary claws at her.

"Careful, I might snap at any moment!" He said, grinning as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pretended to bite her neck like a vampire. Ceilia seemed to be giving quite the opposite of the reaction he'd expected from his intimate 'playing', and laughed, earning unexpected chuckles from those sitting near them. He continued to pretend to 'ravage' the girls 'corpse'; she lay giggling and intentionaly semi-limp in his careful hands. From a few seats away, Murdoc could here Mullie yelling out to them.

"Oi, Murdoc, keep it clean! I don't want blood in 'ere, just got new flooring!" Murdoc and Ceilia both could tell that the barman was simply playing along; he was trying to stifle laughter, and doing it badly. Murdoc chuckled as he let the girl go, deciding that he'd had his fun.

"Quite the extrovert, aren't you?" Ceilia said, a bright grin on her face as she gazed at his face. Her eyes glittered with a controlled curiousity, and Murdoc had a feeling he knew what she was wondering about.

"S'it me eyes, luv? Or it summat on my face?" The woman giggled, nodding.

"I _was_ looking at your eyes; one is red and the other seems to have no pupil." Murdoc chuckled, taking a drink of his nearly-forgotten Ginger Ale.

"Mix o' Aniridia and Heterochromia, luv." He frowned. "Leastways, that's wot it seems like I'd like ter think." Ceilia frowned as well.

"What do you mean?" Murdoc grunted, speaking softly to her. He wasn't keen on blasting out personal information. Heck, he wasn't even sure why he was telling this to Ceilia.

"Truth is, I'm a satanist luv. An' not one o' those pansy ones that bum around dissing other gods without thinking about it. I've had trouble wit' Speed, had a childhood wot would make homoside seem kind, and sold me soul to th'Devil. I was born wit' these eyes, and these teeth. Not to mention I smoke like a chimney and drink like there's no tomorrow." He half-sighed, half-growled under his breath before speaking again. "Yeh've prolly 'ad enough o' me, luv. I'll be off." Much to his suprise, Ceilia grabbed his shoulder, holding him back. He looked at her in surprise, having expected her to be creeped out by him at this point.

"Don't leave yet. I'm... I'm going in for treatment tomorrow. I won't be able to leave the hospital for a week, and you're the first nice man I've met around here." Murdoc chuckled.

"If I'm the nicest, you ain't looking at me hard enough, luv." But he didn't move any closer to the door. In fact, he let her guide him out onto the floor, where a couple people were now dancing to a slow song. Not one he enjoyed, by any means, but he didn't feel like riling up an entire sleepy bar tonight. Besides, this woman was nice. He liked her.

"I ain't too good at dancing, Ceilia..." He said, finally using her name. "The on'y practice I've ever had woz when Noodle made me help her learn 'ow ter tango. Still don't know why she wanted teh learn inna first place." This seemed to make Ceilia giggle, and she grinning at him amusedly.

"You, tango? I can't see it. And who's 'Noodle'? Another person like yourself? Sister, friend... wife?" The bassist had been in the middle of finishing up his Ale, and soon found himself pounding his chest in an attempt to not choke.

"No, no way. Noods is my d-" He stopped himself, changing the word he had been about to say before continuing on. "Noodle is my bands guitarist. She's 'bout eighteen at 'is point...Been through hell and back. _Literally_." Ceilia sighed, leaning her head on the now-uncomfortable demon-bassists chest.

"...You smell like moldy toast..." This normally would've made Murdoc laugh, but he could hear something in her voice that made the sentence seem too serious to be made fun of. So, Murdoc, with nothing to say, let his world glaze over as he and Ceilia ignored the reality of their respective situations in life; leaning his forehead onto her soft-blue bandanna, taking in her lilac scent as they twirled around the dance floor. He liked this woman...

...perhaps more so than he'd be willing to admit.

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(1) - 'Mullies bar' is a fictitious place. 'Mullie' is an OC, and is supposed to be a person Murdoc is affilliated with; I haven't yet decided how, though. Possibly Mullie is simply somebody Murdoc has grown to be 'friends' with due to frequent bar visits.

(2) - I've read that Murdoc Niccals has some sort of junior degree in Pharmaceuticals; so I decided to have Muds show off his medical knowledge.


End file.
